


Here We Go

by beware_phangirl (dantiloquent)



Series: One Shots [8]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Dancing, Fluff, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-03-18 01:28:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3550997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dantiloquent/pseuds/beware_phangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><strong>Summary:</strong> in which <strong>P</strong>J’s shooting a ‘kinda <strong>ro</strong>mantic’ film, <strong>P</strong>hil’s dancing with <strong>o</strong>ther youtuber<strong>s</strong> and D<strong>a</strong>n is just a<strong>l</strong>ong for the ride.<br/><strong>Excerpt:</strong> Maybe he should have beared that in mind, considering that now he’s slouched on the sofa with less than half an hour before they have to leave, but whatever. Right now, learning about the mating season of octupi (octopuses?) while in his shorts and a shirt grabbed off the floor is much more important.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here We Go

**Author's Note:**

> (i did all that bold html appreciate it haha)  
> idk how i feel about this but:  
> have a thing which might be an okay thing who knows. it’s based off [this video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_uiAg-cHJvI&list=WL) [eden](http://like-totally-phan.tumblr.com/) sent me, (don’t click if u don’t want spoilers) which i decided was gr8 so nothing else mattered. you can also read/reblog [here](http://pianoboyhowell.co.vu/post/113723827776/here-we-go)

“Dan?” 

“Yeah?” Dan calls back, turning his gaze from the laptop balanced on his lap to the door, waiting for Phil to walk through.

“We should really sleep now,” Phil continues, leaning against the doorframe so Dan has to crane his neck further. The clock on his laptop sketches two am onto his eyelids, and amber streetlights wash over the window sill. “We have to get up early tomorrow.”

“How early?” Dan groans, moving to rest his cheek on his palm.

“Earlier than midday, that’s for sure.” Dan groans again in complaint, and Phil rolls his eyes. 

“Come on,” he orders, holding his hand out. “I’ll drag you out of bed, don’t you worry.”

“I don’t even have to go. Can’t I just stay at home?”

“You know you can’t.”

“And why’s that?” Dan grins, taking Phil’s hand and pulling himself up.

“Because I’ll do horribly if you’re not there, watching,” Phil flatters with a honeyed tone.

“Nah,” Dan smiles again as he plants a kiss on Phil’s cheek, “you’ll do horribly anyway.”

“That is so rude. I am a great, professional dancer, and you know it.”

“You’re lying to yourself, Phil.”

“Maybe you’re the liar,” Phil retorts, dodging into his room before Dan.

“Not possible.”

 

“PJ said I was good,” Phil pouts, but Dan doesn’t relent.

“Then PJ’s a liar, too.”

“Shut up!” Phil complains, throwing the closest cushion available to him at Dan. Dan catches it, laughing, and sets it back on the bed.  
-  
“You know I was joking, right?”

“I’m currently plotting revenge.”

“You love me too much for that.”

“Irrelevant.”  
-  
Once they’re in bed, Dan slides his arms around Phil’s waist. Phil starts to doodle circles on his hands and forearms.

“I thought all that dancing would have made me a superior spoon.”

Dan frowns, voice becoming more drowsy as he asks, “How does that even work?”

“I don’t know,” Phil admits, “But it does.” 

Dan chuckles, tugging Phil closer and letting his eyelids close. “Okay.”  
-  
PJ’s organised a shoot for his new short film; something ‘kinda romantic’, and something he hasn’t tried before, he says. Phil’s dancing in the particular scene they’re shooting, along with other youtubers and some of Peej’s friends, and all they know is that it’s for some fantastical ball. The group have been through a few rehearsals, both together and separately, but Dan hasn’t seen a single snippet of the choreographed moves. PJ’s organised for everyone to go to someplace ‘in or around’ Brighton for the final shoot, meaning they have to leave early to get there on time. 

Maybe he should have beared that in mind, considering that now he’s slouched on the sofa with less than half an hour before they have to leave, but whatever. Right now, learning about the mating season of octupi (octopuses?) while in his shorts and a shirt grabbed off the floor is much more important.

“You’re not even dressed yet!” Phil exclaims, walking in with damp hair.

“I’ll get ready in a sec,” Dan dismisses, frowning at the article that’s taken his interest.

“No, Dan, come on, we need to go,” Phil persists, standing above him.

“Okay, I’m moving,” he replies, eyes fixated on the screen, not sparing Phil a second glance.

“Dan,” Phil says, dragging out the vowel, “I said I’ll kick you out of bed, and I didn’t, but I am fully prepared to drag you out of this room.”

Dan looks up with a quirked eyebrow, but Phil’s sturdy expression causes him to give in.

“Fine.”

“Great.” Phil’s face brightens considerably, and Dan follows him out of the room to go and find some clothes which are less of a creased mess.

“We’ll be there on time!” he calls to Phil, for no reason other than wanting to have the last word. 

“You’d better hope so, Dan Howell,” Phil replies, emerging from his own room and passing Dan with an eye roll and a small smile. Dan’s lips twitch as he resumes rummaging pointlessly through his drawers.

They do make it on time, just. Dan’s foot may almost get shut in the taxi door because Phil closes it in a rush, but they make it.  
-  
The train station is a soup of ubiquitous noise when they arrive, brisk air rushing through the open space and carrying countless conversations along with it. The expanses of glass making up the roof showers the inhabitants with feeble sunshine, and Dan can see a few rogue pigeons dotted about. It feels odd to walk the path to the trains with no luggage - save the small packs slung over their shoulders - as they meet with the other youtubers invited to the filming. A few minutes are spent exchanging smiles and polite but heartfelt conversation, before they embark the train with a good few minutes to spare. Dan, Phil, Jack and Louise claim a four seater, their friends dotted around them. Dan takes the window seat and leans his head against the window as the landscape starts to wash by.

The journey is a reasonably short one, yet Phil manages to find the time to leave his seat too many times for it to be normal, claiming again and again that he just needs to pop to the loo. The third  
time it happens, the remaining three raise their eyebrows, Phil shaking it off as he stumbles down the carriage.

“Are you pregnant, or something?” Dan asks in slight annoyance as Phil takes his seat again. 

“You’re glowing,” Louise remarks, and Phil rolls his eyes,

“You got me,” he confesses.

“Aw, congrats!” Louise exclaims - a bit too enthusiastic considering, Dan thinks, but he dismisses it when he remembers it’s Louise he’s thinking about.

“Not a surprise, really,” Jack says casually, then laughs loudly.

“Phil’s pregnant?” Dodie chips in from across the aisle. Phil nods proudly, grinning as he sticks out his stomach.

“Do you want to feel my baby?” he asks through occasional giggles. Dodie reaches out and lies her hand on his bump, before swatting it lightly.

“It kicked!” she gasps in surprise. They all laugh as she withdraws.

“But seriously, dude, what is your problem?” Dan asks, surreptitiously, after.

“I don’t know,” Phil shrugs, not quite meeting Dan’s eye, “must be those coffees I had this morning.”

“How many did you have?” Dan asks seriously, gaze firm.

“Two,” Phil answers slowly. Dan raises his eyebrows. “Okay, three. But I need a lot of coffee when I wake up early!” he objects.

“You are intolerable. Completely and utterly intolerable,” Dan says with fake disdain, sighing as he leans back in his seat.

“I do it for you,” Phil says. He finally looks at Dan, a large grin playing on his features.

“I do not appreciate the sentiment.”

“Are you done flirting?” Jack interrupts, deadpanning, “Because I wanted to talk to Dan about something, but I can come back another time, if that’s better for you.”

“I am so sorry about him, he’s such a bully,” Louise says, lips curling and eyes beginning to crinkle. 

They all know Jack’s joking even before he starts cackling.  
-  
With the sun just passing noon above them, the train pulls up in Brighton. PJ and the rest of the troupe meet them at the station, and Dan can’t recognise half the faces - they must be PJ’s friends - but they look kind enough. He’s happy when he sees his other YouTube friends again, and, having already been reunited with Louise and the others, all is well.  
PJ leads them down along the seafront, after explaining how they’re heading to costumes and makeup.

“It’s nothing extravagant,” PJ explains, “as it’s gonna be nighttime when we film, but we’ve got to make an effort, right?”

The sea is chilling and a poisonous green as it stretches out towards the promenade, each wave sending a gushing sound over the sand. Cool spring breezes have left the beach more empty than usual, but there are still a fair few wanderers prowling the streets. The sun beats down on the back of Dan’s neck.

Before makeup, the group rehearses. Because he’s not involved, Dan wonders off, retrieving food, running a few errands for PJ, and roaming the streets. He returns as the costumes are starting to be put on, and he watches as several strangers paste powders, liquids and glitter onto the dancers faces, blending until he can barely see them as subtle glints in the hotel room. The whole costume is made to be slight, Dan discovers, the clothes uniform and embellished to a certain degree, yet casual. Carrie and Dodie laugh as they spin, skirts inflating in shades of twinkling violet and navy. Phil’s dressed in a black shirt and trousers, but there’s a sheen noticeable as he approaches Dan.

“Hey,” he greets, sitting beside him and touching shoulders.

“Hi.”

“Haven’t seen you much, what’ve you been doing?”

“I honestly don’t know,” Dan says with a chuckle. He watches as Phil smooths down a crease in his shirt, then says, “Peej’s done an amazing job on costumes, don’t you think?”

“I know, right. I didn’t really want to wear mine, in fear of tearing it,” Phil agrees, flattening another wave of material.

“Knowing you, you will end up doing just that.”

“Shut up,” Phil says, digging into Dan’s side playfully with his elbow, making Dan squirm.

Dan does shut up, as does Phil, their gazes falling on the calm action of everyone else. Through the large window that takes up the lobby, they can see the deepening sky, its sapphire not omitted by cloud. There’s one sharp pinprick of light, and Dan tries to recall if it’s Venus or Jupiter he can see.

“Okay, everyone,” PJ calls, the room falling silent. There’s a buzzing excitement skimming the air, and it makes Dan’s own mind quicken. PJ brings his hands together as he grins, “let’s start filming.”  
Leading them out of the hotel and towards the shore, PJ discusses camera angles with someone Dan hasn’t met. 

“The set is all ready, so we can start straight away,” PJ calls behind him, taking a turning down the steps, onto the night-laden beach below. The sea has started to retreat again, the moonshine reflecting off the water. Though they walk across the beach, they do not end up there; instead, they are taken to a jutting out square of concrete a little way from the main town, a fountain filling most of the space. Several towering lights frame the scene in mystical purples, pinks and blues, beams bouncing onto the waterfall of water and sending it down onto the asphalt below in shimmering fish scales of light. Strings of fairy lights tangle around any surface available. Night has properly fallen, now, the beach and what could be the whole world still and tranquil. It takes Dan’s breath away for a moment, and the silence of his companions shows it has the same effect on them.

“Holy fuck, Peej,” Dan breaths eventually, “You really don’t hold back, do you?”

“It’s the reason I sleep at night,” PJ replies with another grin. Everyone laughs gently at the exclamation before separating and setting up. Everyone knows where to go, somehow, and Dan is left to the side with Sophie and a few people who look like they know their way around a film set.

The dancers take their places; two semicircles off shot that circumnavigate the fountain. PJ stands in front of them all, a silhouette crowned with neon.

“I know you all know what you’re doing, but I need to remind you so this goes well, so,” PJ begins. “This is meant to be a flash mob type thing. So, people coming in gradually from all places. We need synchronicity, guys, and some kind of team feel. Like, High School Musical, basically,” he chuckles deeply and takes a step back, behind the few cameras. “We’ve practised a lot, so we should get this right first time. If you mess up, it doesn’t matter, just carry on. It adds to the authenticity. Good luck. Are you ready?” There’s a chorus of ‘yeah!’s in return. “I needed to do that at least once. Here we go.” 

He takes another step back, towards the music player, and the laughter and mutterings vanish completely. The surroundings are finally, properly silent as PJ switches on the music, and Dan’s gaze is locked on the people the cameras are about to be fixed on. The lights have set the clothes ablaze, almost, with an assortment of colours, something the cameras may not pick up enough to do it justice. Dan worships PJ’s director skills again. For a few long moments, the only sound is the sigh of the waves on the beach to the side of them, before the music starts up. It fades in gradually, but Dan can tell the song easily. The screens of the cameras show no people, and Dan knows the dance doesn’t start just yet; and so he whispers to himself:

“Marry You? Really?”

“You know what PJ’s like,” Sophie responds, her gaze flitting over to him, “Helps with the mood, or whatever.” 

“What kind of mood needs Bruno Mars?” Dan frowns. Sophie grins, eyes catching the studio lighting. 

“You’ll find out, soon enough.”

Dan has nothing to say to that, and he tries to figure it out; he gives up as the dance starts up, people starting to stride into shot.

The dance consists, at first, of a couple, dancing round each other with fluid, confident movements and bright smiles. A few more join, the small group copying the same professional moves simultaneously. More and more join as the song grows, Dan identifying people in the swelling sea of faces. Next, as the chorus starts up, everyone joins. The fountain area is suddenly one twirling mass of people. Dan follows Phil in the crowd, but soon enough it all fades into one splash of delicate hues. Phil leaves after a while, but so do a few others, Dan notes, so he doesn’t think anything of it.  
The group take several more formations, dancing together in lines before untangling themselves, still dancing while forming another. Dan claps along and laughs, reflecting his company’s grins.

The music slows, and the troupe forms one last shape; two lines of people, shoulder to shoulder, stepping to the music. They start to spin out, one after the other, each dancer repelling their partner and following the molten movement of their elongated arms. The line thins out, the barrier of people on either side growing longer and wider, before the last people spin out. The music stills, and Dan hasn’t got time to note who the last dancers were because in the middle of them, walking towards him, is Phil.

He’s holding something and smiling and people have started to clap, and for a moment everything is a rush of sea salt and a tingling euphoria of some kind. And Dan bends double, covering his face. Phil’s reached him, now, laughing. Dan can’t register what exactly he’s feeling, but he’s biting his lip and feeling a smile ache at his cheeks.

“You bastard!” he exclaims through laughs and tears, and Phil’s smile grows. He’s on one knee, but he straightens again as Dan collapses onto him, burying his face into his shoulder as Dan mutters another, “You utter, fucking bastard.”

Gathering some composure, Dan pulls back and regards the set with a new perspective. Everyone is watching silently and smiling; they’re framed by the lighting and the hush of the beach. He can just see a sliver of water. Phil’s eyes are a dozen shades of pyrophoric blue. Dan keeps his voice down as he continues to talk.

“Did you organise all of this?”

“Kind of. PJ helped, of course.”

“Fuck,” Dan breathes, and he can’t decide whether to settle on the glistening ocean or the man in front of him.

“So?” Phil says, almost sheepishly. His fingers are holding onto Dan’s. Dan is reminded exactly what is happening; his heart thunders against his rib cage in sugar highs, and his face breaks out in a smile.

“So.” And he kisses Phil, hard. The cheers have started up again, but they’re just a friendly roar lining his ear.

“Is that a yes?” The box is pressing into Dan’s waist.

“I s’pose so.”  
-  
It’s closer to dawn than twilight, light seeping out from the curtains, and they’re tangled up in each other, not trying to sleep.

“You know we don’t have to get married, exactly.”

“I know.”

“I mean, I know you don’t exactly agree with it, and I don’t really give a fuck either way.”

Dan grins into Phil’s hair. “We’ll figure something out.”

“Yeah, we will.”

And until now, Dan had forgotten exactly how hard it was to smile and kiss someone at the same time.


End file.
